Winter to Spring

From my porch, I see all the signs of fall, but my inner landscape has the energy of spring emerging from an eight-month winter.

The collective crises and overwhelming uncertainty led to a deep constriction of my heart. It took all my energy to preserve the tiny light inside. In the last month, our lives have settled into routines that now feel normal, and I’ve been itching to turn my energy outward.

I feared I’d wasted the months that I didn’t meet with clients, but as I’ve re-engaged in my coaching practice, I realize how much work I’ve been doing all along. I underestimated how much the reading, writing, and meditating I did sank into my mind, body, and soul. My purpose is more refined, my commitment to the work and belief in its significance is doubled, and I am more attuned to the unity that holds all things together.

It may take time to shake the cobwebs off of what I do, but who I am is ready for spring. 

Looking forward to Advent

I love the Advent season, and I’m especially grateful for its arrival this year. Retelling the story of God’s plan for creation renews my spirit and gives me the energy to love my neighbors (including strangers) and to pray for my enemies.

For the past few years, I’ve chosen a theme for our Advent season. We’ve viewed the story of God’s promise through the lenses of gratitude, light, and gifts. This year, we’ll focus on God’s sovereignty. 

Many of us are concerned for our country and the world. I’ve heard voices in the community say that a particular candidate or the other will either save us or be the death of us. And in the short-term, maybe that’s true.

But there’s bigger Truth.

The Gospel, the real-deal, Good News is this: Salvation comes from Christ who sits at the right hand of God. Death has already been conquered. As James Bryan Smith wrote, “The kingdom (of God) is not in trouble.”

Through the four weeks of Advent, our family will focus on God’s sovereignty over creation, time, nations, and life itself. At sheilaquinn.com I’ll post a brief description of what we’re doing on the preceding Wednesday in case you’d like to take the ideas and try them out with your family.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Seasons

Our lives, like nature around us, cycle through seasons. And while we may have a favorite season, none is inherently better or worse than another. Each one has unique purpose and meaning in the greater story of creation. 

Winter is a time for turning inward. The outer world is marked by baren trees and long stretches of darkness. Everything appears to be dead and wasting away. Inside, you may feel lonely and isolated as people pass each other quickly, not lingering to say hello. And yet, you notice that even the smallest points of light can pierce the darkness. Winter is a contemplative season, inviting you to take shelter and rest. In hidden places, underground and in your heart, life is preparing to begin anew.

Spring is the renewal of active life. Preparations are underway, fueled by faith in what will come. Bulbs, hidden by leaves and snow, send up their shoots. Trees adorn themselves once more, and birds build nests in their branches. You plant seeds, clean out closets, and daydream. A nudge, a tug, or a calling whispers to your imagination, and you allow yourself to listen. It’s an invitation to embark on a new adventure, full of unknown risk and reward. 

Fall is a season of colorful change. You are energized by cooler temperatures and the return to greater structure. As the squirrels gather their acorns, you gather with your friends and families. In your own ways, you are all storing up the goodness you find. You have deep appreciation for the gifts you’ve received as well as the fruits of your own labor. Yet, you recognize that the days are growing shorter and the nights are getting colder. The bounty is not endless, and you risk missing out on the abundance of today as you anticipate the scarcity that may come in the next season.

Summer days are long and filled with activity. Abundant sunlight makes schedules flexible and fluid. Everyone is out and ready to share their time and space. With so much daylight, energy and possibility seem endless. Somehow, though, without knowing when it happened, every minute may become filled with neither leisure nor purpose, but with busyness itself.  So much action leaves little time for rest, and too much sunlight can burn. 

What season represents your inner landscape? Coaching conversations invite you to recognize the beauty and embrace both the challenges and possibilities of whatever season of life you are in. And when you’re ready, coaching can help you make the transition from one season to another. You can learn more here.

Raising Adults

The last night we slept in our house in Texas before moving to Nashville, my daughter slept in her crib. We knew it was only a matter of time before she’d be climbing over the railing so we decided to leave it behind when we moved. I still carry the image in my mind of lowering her into a “baby bed” that last time.

Now, two years later, we’re getting ready to move again. There are different things we’ll leave behind this time: the booster seat, the tricycle (she’s a two-wheeler now), the Fisher Price barn. I’ve never packed a house without a wave of nostalgia.

I can’t help thinking of who we all were when we moved in and who we’ve become since. 

I miss footed pajamas and Spiderman costumes. The smell of a new box of diapers makes my heart ache. I will always long for the tiny people my kids used to be, but we’re not raising children; we’re raising adults.  I’m grateful for the hard-earned growth and maturity we can see in each of them.

I Know I'm a Writer

I’ve identified as a reader for most of my life, certainly all of my adult life. I believe one mark of a reader is the sentiment, “so many books, so little time.” There are moments when I feel overwhelmed by the volume of beauty, wisdom, humor, and story that I’ll never be able to get to in this lifetime.

I was going for a long walk on Saturday and had to stop several times to add to my list of “things to write.” I’ve been writing more prolifically over the past several weeks than I ever have, yet my list of things I want or need to write keeps getting longer. I realized then, I’ve arrived.

I am a writer. 

Not because I’ve written a best seller or have a fancy white desk and a succulent.

I’m a writer because it is what I do and want to do to and plan to do for as long as I’m able. The list of things I plan to write is too long to be accomplished in this lifetime, but I continue to get up early in the morning and to sneak away when the kids are getting along so that I can write a few words more. The call to write and the consistent answer to the call are what make a writer.

Is there anything you do that you can’t get enough of? Maybe you don’t do it yet, but it’s on your heart, a constant nagging or tugging, asking you to make room for it?